Dong Dong Buddha
Project background/introduction | PDF of the original in Chinese
1
Early one morning, Sakyamuni sat meditating atop a large lotus flower in the terraced pond of Sukhavati. The flower was surrounded by an expanse of jade-green lotus leaves, which sparkled with beads of morning dew. Here and there, a few seed pods on S-shaped stems poked up timidly from among the leaves, releasing a faint sweet fragrance. The golden lotus seeds within the pods were ripe and fat, ready to leap out into the water.
Although he had been sitting for a while, Sakyamuni was having trouble settling his mind into a meditative state. He found this puzzling, so he opened his eyes and started listening attentively, taking in his surroundings. He soon noticed a faint sighing sound drifting up from among the lotus leaves. Sakyamuni leaned forward and pushed apart the lotus leaves, then bent down to look beneath. Through the crystal clear water of the heavenly pond, he was able to take in all of the mortal plane. Looking far to the west, he noticed that the clouds that normally shrouded Mount Olympus had dissipated, giving him an unobstructed view of the valley below.
In that deep valley, Sakyamuni saw a steep cone-shaped hill with a pointed top. On the side of the hill was a muscular man with sun-bronzed skin, laboriously pushing a massive boulder. Every time he moved the boulder another inch up the hill, he would brace his shoulder against it and take a rest, gasping and panting until he caught his breath. With a monumental amount of effort, the man finally got the boulder to the top of the hill, and paused to catch his breath, only to watch the boulder roll on its own back down to the bottom of the hill. He raised his arms and let out several long wails toward the heavens, then dejectedly trudged back down the hill to repeat the dismal task.
Sakyamuni knew that the man’s name was Sisyphus, and he had incurred the wrath of the Olympian gods first by exposing Zeus’ abduction of a river nymph, and then by trapping Hades in chains, thus preventing any mortals on Earth from dying. As a consequence, the gods sentenced Sisyphus to the cruelest punishment imaginable: to endlessly push a boulder up a steep hill for all eternity.
Sakyamuni observed Sisyphus for a long time, watching him futilely push that boulder up the hill over and over again, listening to his ox-like panting and the anguished cries every time the boulder rolled back down the hill. Surely defying the gods warrants some kind of atonement or penance, thought Sakyamuni, even if the motivation was compassion for one’s fellow mortals or justice for a mistreated deity. But how can this punishment of brutal and endless labor be considered fair?
Sakyamuni’s heart filled with pity for Sisyphus, and he began to contemplate ways to help him. Could he simply take Sisyphus away and deliver him somewhere else? No… Sisyphus was an inhabitant of the West, and fell under the jurisdiction of Zeus and the Olympian gods. Although Sakyamuni was a religious savior in the East, he had no authority to intercede in the judicial administration of the West.
Sakyamuni sighed, but continued to deliberate. If he couldn’t free Sisyphus himself, could he go to Zeus and plead for clemency on Sisyphus’ behalf? No… If Sisyphus’s offense was against any other Olympian god, maybe he’d have a chance, but why did he have to cross the two most powerful — Zeus, king of the gods, and Hades, king of the underworld? Even worse, the two of them were blood brothers, united in their grudge against Sisyphus, and had sentenced Sisyphus themselves. They’d probably pile on worse punishments if they could, so there’d be no point in trying to plead for mercy.
But Sakyamuni did not give up, and continued to think. The most wearying part of the punishment is pushing the boulder up the hill. The boulder rolling back down when he got it to the top was simply the mechanism for repeating the punishment and perpetuating the suffering. So the essence of the punishment was just “push a giant boulder up a hill.” Given that, if Sakyamuni could find a way to prevent the boulder from rolling back down again, that would effectively be like an amnesty or parole.
With that thought, a blissful smile lit up Sakyamuni’s face. He plucked a golden lotus seed from a pod and tossed it into the water. The seed sank to the bottom of the pond, fell through the sky, and landed precisely on the top of Sisyphus’ hill. Instantly, a lotus leaf spread itself on the hilltop. As soon as Sisyphus rolled the boulder onto the leaf, its stem grew tall and lifted the boulder into the air. Sisyphus gazed up in wonder as the boulder rolled around in the leaf like a drop of dew.
2
The next morning, Sakyamuni was sitting atop the same lotus flower meditating. Strangely, he found that he was again having trouble entering a meditative state. So once again he opened his eyes to investigate, and listened attentively to his surroundings. Today, he heard a faint weeping sound drifting up from among the lotus leaves, so he pushed apart the lotus leaves and peered through the crystal-clear water of the heavenly pond. He saw that the skies around Mount Olympus were clear and cloudless like yesterday, and the cone-like hill in the deep valley below was just as he left it, with a giant lotus leaf holding the boulder high in the air. Sitting beneath the lotus leaf, shielded from the sun, sat a skinny man with his chin resting on his bent knees, crying pitifully.
Sakyamuni was both surprised and puzzled. By making that lotus leaf lift the boulder high into the sky, didn’t he free Sisyphus from his never ending torment? Sisyphus should be out in the world enjoying himself — why was he just sitting in this valley crying? For that matter, what could have caused him to be crying so sorrowfully? With these thoughts, Sakyamuni couldn’t help but feel a burst of compassion, so he bent down low so his face was almost touching the water, and spoke.
“Sisyphus, Sisyphus. Why do you cry with such sorrow?”
Upon hearing Sakyamuni’s voice coming from the sky toward the east, Sisyphus looked up, quickly shifted his weight forward into a kneeling position, and, still sobbing, told Sakyamuni his story.
“One thousand eight hundred years ago, this giant lotus leaf suddenly grew on this hilltop and lifted away the boulder that I had been condemned to push up the hill for all eternity. For nearly as long as the world has existed, I had served out this punishment. But since I no longer had to toil day and night, I had time to consider how to enjoy my time in the world.
“Because I had been pushing that boulder up the hill for thousands of years, without a moment of rest, I figured nothing would make me happier than sleep, so I laid myself down to sleep. For nearly a hundred years, I slept whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted, day or night. Slowly, however, I stopped being able to fall asleep — not only during the day, but even at night. Eventually, I spent my days and nights wide awake, and just the thought of sleep became uncomfortable. Since sleep could no longer give me joy, I started to contemplate what else would make me happy.
“Because I hadn’t eaten meat for thousands of years, I thought that would give me pleasure, so I started to eat meat every day — chicken, duck, beef, lamb — for a hundred years. Eventually, though, I got tired of eating meat. Not only was I not hungry any more, just the smell of meat would make me queasy. Since meat had turned from pleasure to torment, I had to start thinking of other things that would make me happy.
“Because I hadn’t had any alcohol for thousands of years, I thought wine would bring me joy, so I started drinking every day, day and night, for a hundred years. I drank so much that wine lost its flavor and started to taste like water. Not only that, but I was drunk all the time, and when I’m drunk I get sad and depressed. So I eventually stopped drinking and started thinking about other ways to be happy.
“Because I hadn’t been with a woman for thousands of years, I decided that sex would definitely make me happy. So I started to have sex all the time, with a different woman every night, for a hundred years. But over time holding a woman started to feel no different than holding a tree trunk. It got to the point where I was not only bored with sex, it was all I could do to avoid it. So I gave up women and started thinking about other ways to be happy.
“Because I hadn’t read for thousands of years, I thought reading books would make me happy, so I sat down and started reading, day and night, for a hundred years. It was then that I realized there were only a few dozen truly interesting books in the world. The remaining tens of thousands were simply the work of charlatans either parroting or denigrating each others’ ideas. Even within the truly interesting books, there were only a few dozen original ideas — the rest was either repetitive or superfluous exposition. And even among these few dozen original ideas, the useful ones were readily understandable, while the rest I couldn’t make sense of even after a hundred years. It started to feel like chewing wax, just a pointless waste of time. So I lost interest in reading and started thinking about other ways to be happy.
“Because I hadn’t received any praise or recognition for thousands of years, I thought glory and honor would make me happy. So I started competing in the Olympic Games every four years. I competed in wrestling and poetry recitation competitions for a hundred years, winning twenty five consecutive gold medals and twenty five consecutive olive wreaths. I got my fill of praise, but I also got my fill of aggravation. People came to my house at all hours to pester me with questions, and everywhere I went, I was surrounded by crowds of admirers. Their praise smothered me like floodwaters, leaving me with no peace or quiet, day or night. I’d completely lost the freedom of my past anonymity, and became a prisoner of my fame. I started to view fame with the same revulsion as I viewed snakes and scorpions, and started thinking about other ways to be happy.
“But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t think of anything else that might make me happy, so, feeling quite hopeless, I wandered back to this valley. When I came back and saw the boulder on top of the lotus leaf, I suddenly remembered how six hundred years ago I spent my days pushing that boulder up the hill. I remembered that when I was pushing the boulder up the hill, my entire being was focused on getting the boulder to the top, and I had no other cares or concerns in the world. Even though I was pouring sweat and panting like an ox, I wasn’t even thinking about struggling with the boulder. All I felt was a single-minded determination to get to the top, and never experienced anything like the boredom and purposelessness I do now. Furthermore, when I got the boulder to the top and was able to take a brief rest, I was filled with the satisfaction and joy of having accomplished my task. It’s true that, when the boulder started rolling back down the hill, I would howl at the futility of my existence and feel dejected as I walked back down the mountain, but those were only a few brief moments. As soon as my hand touched the boulder again, I would immediately set my sights on the hilltop, and immediately lose the feeling of futility and anguish.
“I have been sitting under this lotus leaf for the past twelve hundred years, and during these twelve hundred years, I’ve been thinking about how foolish I had been in the past. I had been happy during my short breaks after getting to the hilltop — why didn’t I just hang on to that happiness as I walked down the hill, instead of lamenting the futility of my task? Why did I squander that hard-earned reprieve on pointless despair, instead of simply enjoying the unencumbered and leisurely walk down the hill? If I had done that, those past several thousand years would not have been painful at all — I would have been happy going up the hill, happy coming down the hill; happy everywhere, all the time.
“The more I thought about this, the more I understood that the source of true happiness for me isn’t sleep, meat, wine, women, books, or glory; it is the consistent, mechanical work of pushing a boulder up a hill, watching it roll back down, and then pushing it back up again. I suddenly wanted more than anything to go back to my old task of pushing the boulder up the hill, but I first needed to get the boulder back down to the bottom of the hill. But look! The boulder is suspended far out of my reach by this lotus leaf, and I found that I couldn’t climb up the stem or push it over no matter how hard I tried. When I looked down at myself and saw that the muscles I used to have had wasted away, I realized: the less opportunity I have to work my muscles, the more thin and weak I would become; and the more thin and weak I became, the harder it would be for me to dislodge the boulder. So it follows that with each passing day I would get farther and farther away from my means to eternal happiness.
“It was at this point that I lost all hope and began to cry. That’s what I’ve been doing since I returned to this valley twelve hundred years ago: regretting my past negativity and wishing I’d appreciated the blessing that was in front of me.”
Upon hearing Sisyphus’ story, Sakyamuni couldn’t help expressing his admiration, exclaiming, “Goodness, Sisyphus! I dare say you are not far from enlightenment!”
Sisyphus sensed the lotus leaf above his head begin to sway like an umbrella in the wind. Shortly after, he heard a familiar rumbling noise, and watched with delight as the boulder rolled down the hill.
3
The third morning, Sakyamuni was again sitting atop the same lotus flower. However, as he was about to start meditating, he heard furious cursing coming from between the lotus leaves. To find out what was the matter, he once again pushed apart the leaves and looked below. Instinctively, he looked to the valley at the base of Mount Olympus, but today he saw that the mountain was surrounded by thick white clouds, blocking his view into the valley. All that was visible was the top of Mount Olympus peeking up from among the clouds. Sakyamuni was puzzled as to why couldn’t see the valley, but could still hear caterwauling from that direction. As he listened more carefully, however, he realized that the shouting was coming from the top of Mount Olympus itself. The top of the mountain was shaped like an amphitheater, with a semicircle of lofty peaks that served as the thrones of Zeus and the eleven other Olympian gods. Remarkably, all twelve gods are present today, with Zeus slouching petulantly in his throne, hands on his hips. In the middle facing the pantheon knelt a muscular bronze-skinned man, with his hands tied behind his back. Holding on to the other end of the rope was a bigger, even more powerfully built figure. Sakyamuni looked more closely, and realized that the smaller man was none other than Sisyphus, while the larger man was the mighty hero Heracles.
“Outrageous! Intolerable!” Sakyamuni could now clearly hear Zeus’ tirade to the other gods present at Mount Olympus. “Where has our majesty gone? Under Sisyphus’ feet! You heard correctly — Sisyphus has taken our majesty and trampled it under his feet! Just think about it. We used our divine wisdom and insight to painstakingly design the cruelest, most severe punishment imaginable, yet Sisyphus treats it as nothing but a game! He’s actually enjoying himself!
“We used to be able to hear his cries of anguish from deep in the valley, but in the last eighteen hundred years, when have you heard those cries? For the last eighteen hundred years, all we’ve heard is his laughter — the laughter of joy and satisfaction from pushing the boulder up the hill. Think about it. Isn’t this just a blatant display of contempt toward us, his gods? A mockery of the Olympic Pantheon?
“If even the cruelest, most severe punishment ever devised doesn’t cause him suffering, then what does he have to fear from us gods? When I originally gave him eternal life, it was so he would experience torment until the end of time, but now? Just the opposite — he now has the means to experience eternal happiness! How can we let this stand? It is completely unacceptable — if other mortals learn from his example, to treat our punishments as a joke, then what becomes of our authority over them? How could we sustain the system of justice we’ve built up over tens of thousands of years? Why, all of civilization would collapse in a day or two!”
There was a long pause. The assembled gods were silent, and just looked at one another uncomfortably, seeing if anyone else dared speak up. Zeus regarded their silence and their diffident expressions, then stood up decisively from his throne. He walked toward Sisyphus, and with a lofty and imposing voice declared, “In order to protect the cherished righteousness of our rule over mankind, and in order to avoid imperiling our superior system of justice with unnecessary challenges in the future, I, representing the will of all the Olympian gods, hereby rescind your sentence of pushing a boulder up a hill for all eternity. For your past crimes, Sisyphus, your new sentence is death. You are hereby banished from the earthly plane, to the underworld dominion of my brother Hades.”
Having said this, Zeus turned his head to the assembled gods and asked, “Do any of you object?”
Still the gods were silent, and only dared shake their heads in the negative. Zeus nodded and commanded Heracles to tie up Sisyphus’ feet with the other end of the rope, and then tie his hands and feet together as well. Heracles then lifted the bound Sisyphus up to one shoulder and, with a mighty heave, hurled him from Mount Olympus. From Sakyamuni’s vantage, Sisyphus looked like a tiny bronze bead as he flew in an arc from the top of Mount Olympus into the thick clouds surrounding the mountain.
As Sisyphus disappeared into the thick clouds, Sakyamuni’s brow furrowed slightly and a look of extreme sorrow appeared on his face. But a moment later, his eyebrows relaxed, and his face returned to its usual benevolent yet solemn expression; his body stilled, and his mind finally settled into a tranquil, meditative state.
4
When Sakyamuni opened his eyes, a new lotus leaf had appeared in front of him. The stalk of the lotus leaf wound downward through the bottom of the pond all the way into the clouds surrounding Mount Olympus. Meanwhile, rolling around in the middle of the lotus leaf was what looked like a bronze-colored dew drop.
Sakyamuni gently picked up the dew drop and put it in his palm. He then carefully used his fingertips to undo the tiny strings holding the dew drop together. Soon, Sisyphus was kneeling in Sakyamuni’s palm, prostrating himself in gratitude. But when he finally sat up, Sisyphus pulled his knees up to his chin and started crying, whimpering between sobs, “Zeus has banished me from the earthly realm, but you saved me from death, so I can’t enter the underworld, either. Where in the world can I go now?”
Sakyamuni’s kindly face blossomed into a beatific smile. He replied, “You have attained enlightenment, Sisyphus. You can stay forever here with me in Sukhavati, the Pure Land of Bliss.”
So Sisyphus joined all the other Buddhas, who were as numerous as grains of sand on the banks of the Ganges, to spend eternity at Sakyamuni’s side in the Land of Bliss. He was even given a new name to mark his ascension to Sukhavati, in the grand tradition of granting honorary names to great emperors or scholars upon their death. Since “Sisyphus” in Chinese — Xi Xi Fo (西西佛) — sounds a bit like “Western Buddha”, he became known from then on as Dong Dong Fo (東東佛), or something like “Eastern Buddha.”
And for those of you who made it this far, here’s a little bonus: https://pbfcomics.com/comics/sisyphus-myth/
